


On need and want

by stopwatch_plz (immiscibility)



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: 2nd POV, Biting, F/F, Mild Touch Aversion, Mild blood/bruising, in where Harrow still has to learn how to ask for what she wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27510589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immiscibility/pseuds/stopwatch_plz
Summary: You had known it was going to happen at some point.The way Harrow’s shoulders had continued to tighten, the way her steps had become more controlled and precise, the way her speech had become more clipped and acerbic; all of them you knew were signs that Harrow was building up to an explosive crescendo of some kind.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Kudos: 92





	On need and want

You had known it was going to happen at some point. 

The way Harrow’s shoulders had continued to tighten, the way her steps had become more controlled and precise, the way her speech had become more clipped and acerbic; all of them you knew were signs that Harrow was building up to an explosive crescendo of some kind. In the days before your seawater-shrouded confession it would have involved fists and words. These days, you could never be sure what it would consist of.

The evening light had long passed into night when you saw Harrow stride straight past you along the long dark hallway, muttering barely-audible curses under her breath. Slipping into step with her, you bit your lip in hesitation as you tried to work out what to say. If you were honest, your success rate with this kind of situation was still about 50/50: sometimes it helped diffuse the situation, sometimes you accidentally managed to provide the touch paper *and* the spark with which she lit it, and then you’d have to evacuate the area until Harrow no longer wanted to reduce you to “your more useful component parts” - a direct quote. 

So, if asked later, you would have used the excuse that your mental preoccupation with not wanting to get reduced to piles of bones and grey matter was the excuse for being taken unaware.

As you passed a large darkened recessed doorway, heavy double doors locked tight, Harrow suddenly stopped. An arm reached as you stumbled past, caught off balance, and a hand grabbed a fistful of your shirt. Somehow the much smaller woman managed to maneuverer you into the doorway, which caused you to let out a surprisingly high-pitched noise at being bodily thrown against the doors, and before you could even catch your breath Harrow was on you like a starved revenant, hands grasping and bony fingers clawing into your skin through your layers of clothing. Without making a sound, Harrow crowded into your space, her eyes fierce as she stretched up on her toes to force your mouths together in what was less a kiss and more an action that stated ownership and intent, defying anyone else’s contest.

After a moment’s hesitation - not helped by the unexpected oxygen depletion - you wrapped one arm around Harrow’s waist and the other around her neck, cupping Harrow’s head in one strong, steady hand. By this point you already had deep mouth-shaped bruises on your neck, the burst capillaries blooming purple-red across your skin, and your lips were being abused in a manner that your weren’t entirely unhappy with, all of which made it a hell of a lot more difficult to think clearly as your petite-framed necromancer tried climb *inside* you.

“Give me a second,” you said, voice rough with restraint as you pulled back from the devouring mouth consuming you. At this, Harrow growled, a low and primal noise that sparked something in the depths of your brain and made shivers run through you and coalesce somewhere deep inside. 

Without warning you picked Harrow up, and you were always still so surprised at how light she felt, almost incorporeal. Your arm tight around that small frame, you pivoted round so that your positions were reversed, Harrow now with her back pressed against the door, her legs wrapped tight around your waist drawing you in, her hands grasping at your arm, your neck. Unable to escape that inevitable gravity you let yourself be pulled in, and as you pressed your body against hers you felt Harrow began to relax slightly, her legs sliding down yours until her feet touched the ground once more, shaking but secure.

Her eyes as dark and inevitable as a dying star, she slid one slender arm around your waist as the other snaked up and around your neck, fingers splayed against your damp skin. She drew your lips together again in a bruising crush of teeth and tongues, incisor points nipping at the edges of your mouth. Just as you began to melt into it, sucked in by that inevitable vortex, Harrow pulled back. Breathing hard, unable to meet your gaze, eyes wide with a fleeting terror that was both alien and familiar to you, she swore quietly but viciously.

“Dammit!” Harrow scrunched her eyes shut, chest rising quick and erratic. Loose strands of hair were sweat-stuck to her face which held an expression that seemed a mix of desire and fear as the trembling hand on your back balled into a fist. 

You waited patiently until that simmering tempest was wrestled under control; not moving, not speaking, just waiting. When she nodded, eyes still closed, you took the shaking fist that was wrapped around your back and placed it on the wall beside her head, pressing fingers firmly against the solid structure as you covered her smaller, smoother hand with your callous-covered fingers.

You slid a hand down Harrow's stomach and then between her thighs, gently curving your hand around that soft sensitive mound of nerves. It felt like she flowed into your hand as she breathed out a long, ragged breath. Her eyelids fluttered as a shiver ran through her whole body and she curled up so tightly that the crown of her head was almost on your chest, the muscles in her neck rigid with effort as she fought against herself.

“It’s OK,” you said softly, amazed at how calm your voice sounded considering the thundering noise inside your head as you started to circle the tips of your fingers against her clit in slow, circular movements. When you felt her press into your hand with a quiet sigh you gave a small smile of satisfaction, and it wasn’t long before the material under your fingers felt the damp warmth underneath.

“More, Nav!” Harrow demanded in a harsh whisper, the words sending electric shocks to your brain where they set off a crescendo of fireworks. You couldn’t refuse as you grasped at rough material and instead slid your hand down between that and fever-hot skin, went further down to the warm wetness she had given you. Your fingers once again found their target, already swollen and begging for more as you began stroking again in a slow, steady rhythm, and as Harrow fucked herself against your hand, your slick fingers stroking and coaxing that release out of her, you got a moment to really look at her. The heir to the Ninth House really was a determined, proud, stubborn mess; and she was falling apart in your hands. 

The sole heir of the Eighth House Reverend line of Drearbruh wasn’t one for meaningless platitudes and empty phrases at the sanest of times, so instead you concentrated on listening to her body; not just the harsh, almost inaudible, sounds but the language of her body conversing with yours. Each minute movement, each shudder and shift and sigh, now spoke volumes to you. Harrow was as taut as an overwound spring, her internal struggle between her usual iron-willed self control and her need to let go almost palpable. You felt the arm around your neck tighten and she ground down into your hand.

“Faster!” she demanded, her voice less self-conscious now and more like the Harrow you knew - right down to that annoyingly bossy tone. 

With what you knew was your best shit-eating grin you said, “Of course, my Nocturnal Countess.” 

Harrow’s eyes flew open, a look of surprised indignation on her face swiftly replaced by a pinched look of anger, eyebrows furrowing so hard they almost made right angles. “Griddle, what-”

You didn’t let her finish. With one hand holding her hand captive against the wall you moved in, mouth closing over damp, hot skin at the base of Harrow’s neck. You felt her body tense up under your touch and Harrow let out a whine when you nibbled at the skin, scrabbling at the back of your neck as she pulled you in tighter. You acquiesced, hips pressing up against her, your hand working between you both as she began to shudder. Harrow arched backwards, and you bent down once more to nip at her exposed neck. Suddenly you felt the pace change from a frantic desperate reach to one that was deeper and slower, and a shudder ran through Harrow’s small frame. Pressing into her, one hand holding hers against the door, you crested that wave with her.

Harrow was never loud in her release. A breathless “Oh,” a deep sigh, and she leant back against the wall heavily as every muscle in her body relaxed for the first time in days. Her eyes fluttered shut, and you couldn’t help but lean forwards to kiss one of those closed eyelids, and you gave a soft laugh as you received a scowl in response.

“Better?” you asked softly, smoothing sweat-damp hair into place until your hand rested on Harrow’s neck.

“Better,” Harrow replied in a small voice as she looked away. “I... apologise,” she added, in an even smaller one.

You rolled your eyes gently and placed a finger under her chin. As you tilted her head up, Harrow opened her eyes in surprise and you caught her in your gaze. “No apologies. Just, try to ask when you need it?” You got a nod and a small sigh in reply.

“Thank you,” Harrow said, and then continued in a harsher tone as her voice became stronger. “You nearly shoved me through those doors, Nav!”

You blinked. “Harrow, look - I’m really sorry, I-” 

“You better try harder next time,” Harrow cut in, a small smile on her lips as she pushed away from the wall, still a little unsteady as she brushed past you to casually saunter down the hallway.

Grinning to yourself, you fell in beside her.


End file.
